


A Little Bit of Honey

by ilookedback



Series: Hyggetober Challenge Ficlets [15]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: (a little bit), Biting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, Marking, Pegging, Praise Kink, Rimming, Very mild choking, filthy but loving and pretty sweet, like barely even counts but just enough to warn for it, you get to wear his hat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilookedback/pseuds/ilookedback
Summary: You bring your hand to hover over his hat.“Is this for me?”He raises his gaze back to your face and gives you that cocksure grin, eyebrow raising. “It’s all for you, sugar,” he drawls.You lift the hat and place it on your head and decide to take everything you want. You lean in and tilt your head to kiss the smirk from his face, and watch his eyes go wide and dazed when you whisper, “Turn over.”
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey (Kingsman)/Reader
Series: Hyggetober Challenge Ficlets [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952407
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	A Little Bit of Honey

**Author's Note:**

> For day 15 of my Hyggetober Ficlet Challenge, which is based off of [this prompt list](https://www.instagram.com/p/B201-j7ljdU/?igshid=1pflwcl5260me) and will span several Pedro fandoms. Today's prompt is "scarf."
> 
> I really just wanted an excuse to peg Agent Whiskey. I've been wanting to do this for _months_. This is very dirty and was very fun to write.

He is a vision. A long, lean stretch of skin from head to toe, legs sprawled out over the bed. Not a stitch on him save for the bolo tie around his neck and his black cowboy hat, positioned strategically over his groin.

He thinks he’s cute, and he is, but you wouldn’t mind knocking the cocky expression off his face, just for a little while.

You crawl up his body, straddling his thighs. It’s a little chilly in the room and you see his eyes fall to take in your budding nipples through the thin lace of your bra. You bring your hand to hover over his hat.

“Is this for me?”

He raises his gaze back to your face and gives you that cocksure grin, eyebrow raising. “It’s all for you, sugar,” he drawls.

You lift the hat and place it on your head and decide to take everything you want. You lean in and tilt your head to kiss the smirk from his face, and watch his eyes go wide and dazed when you whisper, “Turn over.”

He makes the most delicious sounds when you get him like this, splayed on his belly with his broad back exposed and the small, sweet curve of his ass on display. You use your mouth and your hands, tonguing him open and gradually working your slicked fingers inside him, listening to the low-pitched groans from above you, the bitten off curses he growls when you twist your fingers deep past the knuckle. His hips shift, hitching into your touch and grinding down into the mattress, and his voice is muffled when he speaks.

“Fu- _uck_ ,” he moans. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come like this.”

There’s an unspoken plea in his voice. _You’re gonna make me come like this—don’t let me come like this_. You slowly still your fingers, letting them drag out to rest over him, and land your mouth on the soft flesh where his ass meets his thigh.

“You want more?” you ask.

He’s already lifting his hips up, seeking out your fingers again, starting to go desperate for it.

“Please,” he rasps. “ _Yes_.”

You nip lightly at the tender spot under your teeth and then make your way up his body, plastering yourself along his back. You nudge the toy against the cleft of his ass, a gentle thrust previewing what’s to come, and close your lips over the delicate skin of his neck, sucking hard to leave a mark. The breath catches in his throat and when you pull your head up far enough to see his face, his eyes have fallen closed, pretty lashes fanning dark over his cheeks.

“So polite,” you murmur. “Such a good boy.”

He laughs, breathlessly. “You know I’m not.”

“You are for me, though,” you tell him. You slide your hips against his ass again, letting him feel the ridge of the strap-on cock. “You’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mmmm.” His low voice sends a shiver through you and you smile against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to the red mark you’ve brought to the surface. “I like it when you tell me yes.”

He reaches behind himself to palm at your hip, pulling you tighter to him, impatiently. “Honey,” he says, “ _Please_ fuck me already.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” you tell him, and he lets out a laughing groan. You rise up and his hips follow you easily as you guide him onto his knees, spreading his legs to make room for you and get him lined up with your toy. You drip a line of lubricant onto the cock and work it over with your hand, getting it slick and wet for him, and then you press the head of it against his entrance, letting him feel it. You watch his back rise as he takes a deep breath and lets it out, making his body relax, and you slide inside him and listen to him moan.

The cock is a comfortable size, enough to stretch him open but not so big that he can’t take it nicely, and he does. He rocks his hips back against you, bracing his elbows on the bed and hanging his head between his arms.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “ _Shit_ , that’s good.”

You run your hands over the expanse of his back, over his soft skin and firm muscle. It’s still cold in the room but he is running hot, nearly sweating for you, and his back arches under your touch. Your fingers slide up to the back of his neck, stretching to feel his soft, thick hair. You don’t pull it; you just love the feel of it slipping through your fingers, and how he tips his head back into your touch when you massage your nails lightly into his scalp. You thrust your hips, working up to a rhythm, listening to his gasping breaths with each drag as you pull out of him and push back in, and feeling it pulse through your core, feeling like _wanting_. As your fingers drag back down his neck, they catch on the cord of his bolo tie and you work carefully to spin it on his neck, so the silver pendant flashes in your hand before you close your fingers around it. You tug lightly, just enough to let him feel the light pressure across his throat. Barely there but enough to make him tip his head back and shift his weight onto his left side so he can move his right hand down and stroke himself.

“You like that?” you ask.

“Yes,” he chokes out. You watch the muscles in his arm move with the rhythm of his hand working over his cock and you wish you could see it—think about flipping him onto his back and getting his legs over your shoulders and watching his face and his pretty cock as he gets himself off—but then he says, “ _Just_ like that,” and you focus on keeping your angle exactly as it is, hitting a spot inside him that makes him keen high in his throat.

He swears and cries out, shuddering under you, shoulders collapsing forward onto the bed, and you let go of the cord around his neck to run your hand soothingly over his back, leaning forward to press gentle kisses to the skin you can reach. Your hips go still, holding steady for him as he bucks and pulls away, and you let his hips fall forward when they choose to, cock finally slipping free of him as he trembles around it. You shift up to lie on top of him as he recovers, and you latch your mouth onto the other side of his neck to give him a mark to match the one from before. You let your hand drift lazily over his ass, slipping between his cheeks and thumbing lightly over the soft skin, slick and sensitive there, liking how it makes him shiver and groan under you.

Finally, he sighs and rolls onto his back, dislodging you from your sprawl atop him.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, urging you up. He tucks a finger into the harness you’re wearing and tugs on it, gently. “Take this off and get up here.”

His eyes are on you, heavy-lidded and satiated, while you remove the strap-on harness and set it aside. He casts about for his hat, knocked off your head early on in the proceedings, and holds it out to you as you kneel over him again.

“Put this back on,” he says. “I like seeing you wear it.”

He’s smiling as he says it, but it’s quiet and fond, no longer the cocky smirk he’d been sporting before. You don the hat and knee-walk up the bed, stopping to admire your handiwork, landing your fingers on his throat and pressing lightly at the marks you’ve left there.

“You’ll have to wear a scarf tomorrow,” you tell him, a little cocky yourself now, and he huffs a laugh as he grabs your hips and drags you up to hover over his face.

“Worth it,” he murmurs, and pulls you down to settle onto his mouth.


End file.
